the boy who drank stars
by underlings
Summary: she is all silk skin and glass bones and he hates her. au, natsu/lucy. — for gin


**disclaimer**: story image (c) _shumijin_  
**dedication**: to gin (moon slut tbh)  
**notes**: …so, basically, lucy's an irl princess and natsu's still a dragon slayer, but not the cool kind; dude's still honorable tho—and they have some sort of forbidden!love thingy-thing. ok

**title**: the boy who drank stars  
**summary**: she is all silk skin and glass bones and he hates her. au, natsu/lucy. — for gin

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_…and at once i knew i was not magnificent  
__high above the highway aisle  
__(jagged vacance, thick with ice)  
__i could see for miles, miles, miles_

**(bon iver)**

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**PROMPT** ;; _revelation_

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In the darkness, all he can hear is her voice.

SHUT YOUR EYES, she seems to scream; close your eyes; don't think about this. Don't think about the fact that I'm supposed to be a proper little princess and that you're the kingdom's hot-blooded Dragon Killer and that our differing social statuses should have rendered any possible relation nil. DON'T THINK, DON'T THINK FOR A SECOND—

Her normally gentle fingers suddenly brush distractingly rough across his collar bone, like she just heard his thoughts, and the bare skin startles with goosebumps as her hand glides down his chest—and then it's as if he's the scene of the crime and she's the mischievous criminal marking him with her fingerprints.

I'M A DRAGON SLAYER, he wants to shout, I'M IN CHARGE HERE. He's Natsu and he's in charge of this part of the country, that's how it works, that's what his life is like―but Lucy's nails are digging into him now, her breath fanning hot against his mouth. His lips part unconsciously, and her tongue slides against them without him ever saying that he's okay with it. He is, he is (he thinks he is, at least). No, no, he knows he is, he definitely is…―it's the rest of the world that isn't, that's the problem. That's what muddles him.

Her body is closer now. It's pitch black so he can't see, but he can feel the steady heat of her skin, the slight rustle of extravagant bedclothes, and then suddenly she's right against him, a warm weight in his lap, her skin pressing against his as she winds her arms around his neck. Her kiss is real, this time, no hesitant teasing. Her mouth is sure and experienced, touch deft and arousing. (For this is not the first time they have met in the dead of night.)

"Close your eyes," she whispers into his ear, "Close your eyes, Natsu." Her fingertips dance against his cheek, tiptoeing upwards until they can slide his eyelids shut. She lifts her mouth again and kisses him again, steadily rocking closer, gasping briefly. Everywhere she's touching him is on fire, Natsu realizes—

_and it's a shocking revelation_, _because nothing other than fighting a dragon has ever made him feel_

—a desperate, pleasant burn that sets his pulse stuttering. She chuckles once, low and seductive, before becoming silent and still as she grins teasingly against his lips.

The pause is seven seconds too long, and even within that small amount of time he still can't find anything to do with his hands, laying limply at his sides.

"C-close your eyes," he mumbles into her mouth, and she laughs in slight surprise—and maybe a little curiosity—breath leaving in a puff as she obliges.

Natsu cautiously reaches up a hand to trace the slope of her face, brush against the silky strands of hair, drag over her shut lids.

DONT LOOK, those words seem to say. Don't look and see what we're doing. Seeing makes the sin—

_because it_ is_ a sin_,_ it _is;_ the royal bloodline needs to be kept pure_,_ that's the logic that's always been drilled into his head_,_ as well as everyone elses_,_ probably since the beginning of time; y__et he's not_…_ he's not…_

all

too

real.

/

(As it turns out, hell is worth it, for her.)

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**notes2**: IT MADE MORE SENSE IN MY HEAD SHUT UP

_fin_.  
**Please don't favorite without reviewing, thank you!**


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